The Fall
by I-am-the-survivor
Summary: As the climax of their battle comes to a peak, Sherlock develops another plan of his own
1. Chapter 1

HO BOY! I was in an angsty mood and this idea has been sitting in my drafts so here's my take on what I think will happen in the finale. Hope y'all enjoy!

She should have trusted her gut, she curses as Marcus shouts at her from the passenger seat to slow down. Watson speeds down the sidewalk towards Brooklyn Bridge as quickly as she possibly can without compromising their safety. She'd parted ways with Sherlock not even an hour. She and Marcus had gone to arrest Reichenbach but when he wasn't where Sherlock said he would be, she had a ridiculous gut feeling. She didn't even explain before she pulled away from Odker. It was only when she managed to subside the initial panic that surged through her body, that she explained her thoughts to the detective.

He is going to confront Reichenbach. She just knows it.

Memories flash through her mind rapidly. How he'd tortured Moran, how he'd nearly killed Oscar Rankin before relapsing. She swallows the guilt that follows the two, fingers gripping the wheel tighter. He'd come excruciatingly close so of course when they got the call from Kitty that someone was watching her and Archie, followed by similar reports from the captain and Bell himself. It was when she noticed the same car trailing them, she thinks that broke his resolve.

McNally had threatened them all in the name of Reichenbach. Watson grinds her teeth at the thought of him hurting any of their family. They'd tried absolutely everything. This damn man had even Moriarty ducking away. He'd known about her daughter. He'd known where she was, who she was with. It was enough to keep Jamie at a distance. Everyone had come up with nobody that would be able to stop him. She'd even suggested retreating back to London, coming up with a game plan before attacking once more.

Finally, they'd caught a break. Actually, more like Kitty caught the man watching Archie at daycare and coerced a confession out of him. It was enough to warrant an arrest on charges of stalking. Surely enough three more men came in, admitting to following her, Bell, and Gregson for Reichenbach as well. She should have known they'd submitted too easily. Only a mention of Sherlock's father and the wealth associated with his family would have crumbled the strongest resolve in criminals.

Sherlock's desperation to protect them extends beyond logical reason.

As they pull up she searches wildly for any sign of either of the men. She climbs out of the car and that's when she spots Sherlock.

Her heart falls to her stomach when she notices he's standing on the other side of the railing. "Sherlock!" She can barely hear her own scream over her heart pounding in her ears. She wants to believe that this is another dumb method to help clear his head, he talks to a porcelain bust and owns his own hive of bees on their own roof so it wouldn't be far fetched. For god sakes he faked out getting shot once just to introduce a case. She pleads with the universe that this is the case. She tries not to think about how she saw Reichenbach's car but has yet to spot the man. But when his eyes meet hers, she knows what she feared had come to fruition.

She can't make out what Marcus is saying. Her eyes can't leave his, they're filled with so much sadness. Against the protests behind her, she goes up to him. "Sherlock." She whispers this time. Carefully, to keep his balance he turns to face her. She wants to grab him by the jacket and pull him over to safety.

"I can't protect them." He whispers sadly. In that moment she wants to yell at him. They'd had him for stalking charges. Surely Moriarty would've taken care of the rest. She's done more for lesser threats. With the "alliance" her and Sherlock have Reichenbach would've been gone. Again, she swallows the guilt. They have so much blood on their hands. "I can't protect you."

"He's gone Sherlock." Her hand hovers between them. He's so averse to touch and the last thing she needs is to startle him right now.

"Reichenbach wasn't the only one. Ever since coming back to America you've come under constant threat. You came under threat because of me."

"We're always under threat."

"You shouldn't have to be."

"Neither should you." Finally her hand touches his cheek softly. "Sherlock come home. We've figured these people out before. We always come home. Come on,"

"I can't."

"Sherlock please." She hates how broken she sounds. Her words don't even sound like her own. His forehead dips down to touch hers. He closes his eyes just breathing in the moment.

"Do you trust me?" The question is absurd after all they've been through. Not once had she even considered anything but complete trust with him. Even during the rough patches she trusted him wholeheartedly.

"With my life."

"I will be back." The whisper is so soft she almost misses it. "I will find you again. This I promise you." She can't decipher the meaning behind the words. Only that he pulls away from her touch. His lips are cold as they press against her forehead. "I have never loved anyone as I do you, right now, in this moment." The words suspiciously feel like goodbye. Surely enough she feels his touch, his warmth abandon her completely.

It takes mere moments to recognize that he was falling. She reaches for him with a shout fingers barely missing as she's tugged away by another pair of arms. Marcus holds her to the ground to prevent her from going off the ledge as well. She tries to fight it. She has to help him. She glances down into the darkness but sees nothing. Not even a ripple of water marks his descent.

"Joan!" Marcus yells pulling her backwards still as she kicks and screams. "Joan please!" She can hear his voice break and it sounds so final. "He's gone."

With those words all the fight in her body crumbles. It all falls away so easily. Her legs no longer want to hold her and her heels she's normally so sure in feel unfamiliar. She lets herself lean on Marcus. She can't help the sob that escapes her throat. His words just keep echoing in her mind.

'I will find you again.'


	2. Chapter 2

**In lew of that pre finale I figured people would need something a little softer, luckily I had this prepared for just such an occasion! This bit is set 5 years after the first chapter and deals with Watson adopting a child named Leo who's 4 in this. He's made some appearances in other fics of mine but they're not connected. I just like the flow of the name Leo Watson.**

**Now I've had people asking if I would continue to write for them even after the show ends and my answer is absolutely. These two will always be a classic favorite of mine and I think I'll still be writing them for years to come should the ideas come to me. I have friends that are behind on the show so I have no doubt I'll be rewatching with them. I just hope y'all will continue to have me. I'll also be posting occasional art on tumblr as I now have the means to digitalize some of my drawings.**

Out of all things in the house, Watson will never get used to the silence. Even when Leo was a baby it didn't compare to Sherlock's presence. Random explosions, various bangings, and the occasional fall kept the Brownstone in near constance noise. Now as she studies the newest crime scene photos with her son coloring in the other room leaves the plaster walls in an unnatural quiet. She can hear every creak of the house settling, the light scribbling on paper, all the way down to the heels of his shoes tapping softly against the couch as he swings his feet.

She almost lets out a sigh of relief when the teapot begins whistling breaking the tense air. Abandoning the work for a second she goes to tend to the tea. Days like this are the worst; the case is boring at best, there's no need to call up for Kitty's help, Marcus is focused as the newest captain of the 11th. She's on her own.

She slides her hand through her hair listening for the sounds of Leo. Whenever things have gotten rough, whenever she found herself wanting to run, she grounds herself by looking at her son. It's been four years since she's adopted him and he's only getting more curious. She can't help but love him a little more every time he looks up at her with sparkling eyes as he makes a new discovery. Watching him and Archie explore feels so incredibly innocent. She can't help but smile.

However, she doesn't hear the light taps or scribbling. She pokes her head around the corner finding the coloring supplies abandoned with no mop of hair in sight. "Leo?" She calls. He might have scurried off to the bathroom, logic dictates. Her eyes flash to the door, it's closed but unlocked. Her heart falls certain that she'd locked it. She locks it every time.

Her pace quickens through the house. With every room empty, panic takes a tighter grip on her throat. Tears are just gathering in her eyes when she hears his voice. He's explaining in broken sentences. It's not an irregular occurrence as he frequently talks to stuffed animals and even his imaginary friend. She encourages him to learn to talk as much as possible and with an outstanding creativity he takes all the chances he can get.

Yet the panic doesn't abate. Not when she spies two shadows casting through the doorway. "Mommy!" His voice cries as she steps through the door. Quick footsteps echo as he crashes into her. She lifts him without hesitation but isn't even looking at him. Rather her eyes are trained on the other figure.

He's sitting with his back turned to her, staring up at the wall of art Leo has made over the years. He's got on a dark jacket paired with khaki dress pants. The shorn back of his head looks painfully familiar. She tries so hard not to hope. His words echo in her ears. A promise he'd made to her five years ago.

"It's Uncle Sherlock." Leo whispers in her ear like it's a secret. Sherlock chooses to turn in that moment. He looks older than she remembers, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. He's got rough stubble forming and his eyes harbour sadness that she remembers all too fondly.

"Hey, why don't you go color me a picture?" She places a kiss on the little boy's cheek before putting him down. She waits until he scurries off to make her move.

As she turns back Sherlock is standing now, eyes running over her. "You cut your hair." He states. She'd chopped her hair off to a bob after a particular case involving children. She'd needed a change in that moment. It was a spur of the moment decision.

"Good observation." He chuckles, a light rumble in his chest. She can't hold back her reservations anymore, comfort be damned. She takes three steps before wrapping her arms around him tightly. She shuts her eyes trying to will the tears to go away as they build up. However, when he wraps his arms around her returning the hug she can't help it as they flow down her cheeks staining his jacket.

"I'm so sorry Watson." He whispers into her hair. She shakes her head against him. Right now she doesn't need an explanation. That can be saved for later. Right now she just wants to pray that this isn't a sick dream.

She pulls away suddenly, a hand coming up to his cheek. "Have you seen Bell, Gregson?"

"No. I came here first."

"Are you…" She doesn't dare to finish the sentence. Not when there's a chance that he's only stopped by. Not when he could so easily leave her all over again.

"I'm back. For good." She nods jerkily. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, so light that she's unsure it happened at first. "Now, I do believe there's someone I need a proper introduction to. Though he seems to already know me quite fondly."

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

The Brownstone is never quiet anymore. His experiments have become less severe, yes, but now with Leo studying him asking questions with curious eyes. Sherlock is all too enthusiastic to explain what he is doing, already seeing the potential in a new student so young. Even when they're not working Sherlock takes up a role as caretaker with ease. She's seen how he acted as godfather to Archie, it's not shocking.

She watches the two of them as they run around the living room, Sherlock chasing Leo in a game of their own. It starts with a game of chess, delves into something like tag, before going back to chess again. She can't say she misses the quiet even in the slightest. Not when she sees them smile, not when she catches them both with Leo sleeping on Sherlock's lap, and not when they walk hand in hand eating their ice cream as she trails just behind texting Marcus about the latest case. Now instead of light tapping or scribbling as she makes tea, screams of laughter echo through the Brownstone. The walls singing with a young family, her family.


End file.
